I love to go a wandering.

Thinking I needed to get out more, last summer I joined a walking group. My first time out with them was on a Wednesday evening, the walk was a stroll round the town where I live, as it happens. Their main outings are on Sundays and the Wednesday evening ones are just during the summer. I continued to go on both the Wednesday and Sunday walks regularly for several months, right up to the end of the autumn, my enthusiasm waned as the weather got colder.

I didn’t consciously think about it but I suppose I had a preconception of a bunch of like minded people just turning up at a prearranged location and setting off walking together. It never occurred to me that such a seemingly straight forward and simple activity would necessitate the amount of effort and time to plan and organise that it actually does. And all by a handful of people doing it out of pure altruism, gaining no reward other than the simple satisfaction of knowing that their efforts are enriching the lives of others.

The group has a monthly meeting where, presumably, they discus important issues and make weighty decisions. They have a Chair Person, Vice Chair, Treasurer, Walks Programme Co-ordinator, Footpaths Officer and several other officials with vaguer, but, undoubtedly, no less necessary roles. So, clearly, this is not a Mickey Mouse outfit, it is a serious and properly organised group.

While I expected to derive a modest health benefit from participating in the activity of the group, I was quite surprised to also find that joining them actually made me feel younger. This was no doubt due in part to the exercise, but, more than that, I think it was because a good many of them are retired and older than I am. The principle of relativity in action.

Every walk has a walk leader, a job that entails much more than arriving first and then striding off in front, assertively. The walk leader first has to conceive the adventure, he -although, quite often she- must assemble in their mind a journey of discovery, or at least an excursion that isn’t likely to bore the pants off everyone. Next, the precise rout must be planned, followed by the “recky”, which is where the walk leader sets out, quite often with another dedicated group member, and does a boots on the ground dummy run. Thus are any potential problems and hazards identified. How often, I wonder, have we carefree ramblers turned up on the day with nothing to think of but a pleasant day’s meander through the English countryside, completely oblivious to the extra large muddy puddles and steep embankments our leader has beforehand had to suffer so that we don’t have to.

While the walk leader is out in front, blazing the trail, at the very back, is the man at the very back. He’s probably got a title but I don’t know what it is, probably the tail man, or something similar. His job is mainly to ensure that the stragglers don’t take a wrong turn and get lost, his secondary role being to mop up any casualties. It is surprising how many people, particularly the old duffers, slip head over heels on the mud or trip up over a tree root or discarded soft drink can. Usually any serious injury is confined to the dignity of the person involved. I have never actually witnessed such an occurrence myself, but that is probably my own fault for not hanging far enough back.

We have our own web site. With a few mouse clicks I know where the next walk will take place, how long the walk is and whether or not it is dog friendly. We also have a self appointed group photographer who covers twice the distance of everyone else through running up and down the line all day taking shots. I am amazed by his energy, I don’t know how old he is but I believe he’s been retired for ten years. The results of his vigourous enthusiasm appear on the web site a few days later, he’s quite artistic, actually.

I could go on forever singing the praises of the Ramblers but enough is enough.